


Sap

by Minky-way (Cardgamesonmotorcycles)



Category: DRAMAtical Murder - All Media Types
Genre: M/M, Unconventional Gifts, Valentine's Day
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-14
Updated: 2016-02-14
Packaged: 2018-05-20 05:45:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,170
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5993710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cardgamesonmotorcycles/pseuds/Minky-way
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Valentine's Day.<br/>Cliche? Yes. Unnecessary? Most certainly. Potential to remind his boyfriend what a disgusting romantic he was? If he was clever about it.<br/>He supposed it couldn't be all bad.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sap

He never really understood valentine’s day, or any other holidays for that matter, neither of them had ever really done Christmas after losing the only things they could call family, and aside from birthdays which were done with the least amount of fuss, all holidays were basically ignored by them.  But Mizuki was a ginormous sap if ever there was one, and Sly just knew he’d do something, wouldn’t be stupid enough to try the whole cliché romantic date idea or anything like that, wouldn’t buy him chocolates or a teddy or sprinkle rose petals everywhere. But he’d do at least something, and for once Sly thought that maybe he might amaze him by doing something in response, though he was very aware he couldn’t exactly just go out and buy him a card, or indeed anything.

Not to mention the fact that all the money he used was Mizuki’s, so anything he might buy for him would end up essentially being paid for by the bartender himself, no, he’d have to make something, stealing it would ruin the gesture. Not that it was a _gesture_ , no, he was just doing it so he could mock the stupid look of shock on his face when he actually went out of his way to express some kind of emotion for once.

So he tried to work it out, wondering if he should ask Tio to do him a favour and buy him a blank card or something, they probably made those, for crafty people or some shit, but then they still weren’t on the best terms. Buying one himself was out of the question, people still didn’t like him even despite his almost complete disappearance from the island, and just walking into a shop made people nervous. Whipping out a coil would make the suspicion rise, they would think he’d stolen it, and despite it being a nice gesture, he had the feeling Mizuki didn’t realise how impractical it was.

Cash would be preferable, and he had easy access to that, but still, to buy a blank card and envelopes would be odd, wondering absently if he knew anybody who might have those kind of things, knowing Mizuki had envelopes and debating whether just a piece of card would do. It probably would, all he’d have to do was cut it down to size and fold it in the middle then write something on it, the words would come after the idea was growing more solid, or hopefully anyway.

He really wished he could just steal it, because that was what he knew and he didn’t like the way eyes lingered on him distrustfully whenever he tried to do anything normal, like pay, hated that even though he was trying to be better they wouldn’t give him the chance.

 

* * *

 

So he stole the card, and of course he did, but if he dumped a note a little too large for the price in the space it had been snatched from, nobody but him had to know, and now he’d technically paid, his conscience, what was left of it, was clear.

But now the issue was what to write on it, and with a lot of racking his brain and trying to sum up his true feelings, the final list was worryingly blunt and not even remotely romantic, not that he really wanted to be that. Dropping the pen in favour of lighting yet another cigarette and regarding it, ignoring the scribbled out ones, because they either made him nervous or were on the verge of not being nice at all.

The remainder, the lucky few, ran thus-

  * I think you’re okay and stuff
  * I don’t mind spending time with you
  * I’d rather be with you than be alone
  * After drugs, alcohol and cigarettes, you’re my favourite thing
  * I don’t dislike you



But even they were crap and he knew it, he should be able to gush like the people on TV, to tell Mizuki he was his world, his rock and his everything, but that wasn’t entirely true and just the idea made him gag and cough smoke unpleasantly. He’d told him he loved him exactly twice, using those words anyway, whenever Mizuki said it he’d reply in agreement, but as for saying, ‘I love you,’ it had only happened on those two occasions and even then he’d shaken with anxiety as everything he had been for so long fell apart.

He’d probably sign the card with love, or whatever people wrote, ‘love, Sly’ sounded about right, and probably a couple of kisses, because he’d done that before and he was sure he could do it again, although the events of last time had been less than nice for either party.

But still, the more he thought about the idea the more stupid he thought it was, because he didn’t do sweet, or romantic or emotional, they functioned fine without all that. But he knew Mizuki was a disgusting romantic at heart, and sometimes he worried he wanted more, wanted a boyfriend, and still the niggling, paranoid voice in his head made his throat dry up, who could admit how he felt and could be like a boyfriend. Who didn’t sometimes push him away or yell at him and break shit and get so aggressive and defensive that it was almost like they weren’t together all over again.

But he couldn’t help it, if he suddenly snapped and turned into the picture perfect boyfriend it would be fucking unnerving to anybody, they managed in their own unique way, cuddles lasting as long as Sly allowed and no more, completely disappearing sometimes when he needed space. Snapping at him when everything got too much and he couldn’t deal with it, freaking out sometimes and having to escape and run until he felt like himself again, whining and demanding and making everything difficult.

No, valentine’s day was not his thing, but then, thinking on it this much, neither were relationships, and the more he thought about it the worse he felt, wondering how the fuck him and Mizuki had even managed to last this long, how he had been able to stand him.

 

* * *

 

But the day was there and he didn’t know what to do, so he scribbled the first thing that popped into his head into the card, cringed at the curse word, shoved it into the envelope he’d stolen from Mizuki’s desk and left it on the dining table. It couldn’t really be described as any kind of effort, messy and obviously handmade, not even a real attempt if he was honest, but he had the horrible feeling that Mizuki would be so amazed he’d even known the significance of the date that he would be more than happy.

Valentine’s was a busy day for the bartender, people wanted to get cringe worthy, disgusting couples tattoo’s or the name of their loved one permanently inked on them, so he knew Mizuki would be up way earlier than he ever would. But that was what he wanted, he didn’t want to see him open it, to react, he was almost ashamed that he couldn’t just do this day normally, although society’s version of normal did include one thing he was cool with, and planned to take part in, valentine’s day fucking, but other than that it befuddled and confused him.

 

* * *

 

It hadn’t been there when he went to bed, whatever it was, wondering if maybe it was something of Sly’s, because he’d stayed awake a little longer before heading to bed too, actually initiating cuddles for once, albeit with a little bit of cursing and some rather unnecessarily hard elbow jabs. But as he got nearer he recognised it as an envelope, with his name on, and he paused, because _surely_ Sly hadn’t… Tearing open the paper carefully, because he was a horrible sap and would save the envelope with his name written in that spiky handwriting.

The front had an amusingly bland message, just as blunt and to the point as Mizuki would expect from Sly, ‘I don’t dislike you,’ but aside from the eye roll inducing lack of romance in it, his eyes flickered to the full stop, which was in fact, a tiny heart. How remarkably, surprisingly cute.

Flicking it open and not expecting much else, thinking that maybe he would have googled a message for the inside, as he had once before with an ex, having not been good enough with words to write one himself. Surprised at the honesty of the message he read, at the fact that it was obviously totally true, and, ironically for this day, straight from the heart, the contents of which Sly didn’t express often.

‘I don’t know what to write ‘cause I’m shit, I just wanted to do something nice for once. You’re okay I guess.

So yeah, happy Valentine’s Day, loser.’

He hadn’t signed his name, but there were a couple of messy kisses at the bottom, smudged onto the opposite side of the unevenly halved paper where he’d presumably slammed it shut and sealed it away the moment he was done.

He read it once, then read it again, only then did he smile, exhaling an amused puff of air almost like a chuckle, eyes flittering back to their bedroom where Sly lay, still fast asleep, wondering just how long it had taken him to come up with that. A while, he figured, probably a couple of weeks at least, which meant planning and thought had gone into this, and as awkward and clumsy as it had come out, just the thought he had considered doing something meant a lot, let alone the fact that he had gone through with it.

He considered leaving it alone for now, leaving Sly alone, because he’d obviously left it there for him deliberately, but then he decided against logical reasoning and quietly headed into their bedroom, he had a few minutes before he was due to meet Tio and he wanted to thank him.

He was asleep, and of course he was, usually he slept til about noon when Mizuki got his break, and sometimes even then he had to wake him up so they could eat lunch together, always more irritable when he just woke, or clingier, though he enjoyed both equally.

Curled up small into the warm side of the bed Mizuki had just abandoned, a recurring trend that he had never questioned except in his own mind, wondering if it was the lingering heat from his body Sly liked or maybe the scent of him that remained. Either way, it didn’t really matter, and he crossed the bed to his side easily, crouching down so he could see his face, more peaceful and relaxed in sleep, lips a neutral line and slightly parted as he breathed deeply and evenly. His hair was a little messy and there was the slightest damp patch on his pillow where he’d presumably dribbled, thinking back across all they’d been through and marvelling, as he did every morning, that things had ended up like this.

There was always a soft, warm sort of atmosphere in the mornings now, the previous guilt and regret and worry was gone and replaced with the safety and security of a warm body beside him, even if Sly was sometimes cold and things turned messy, he stuck around all the same.

He didn’t want to actually wake him, but when he leaned in to plant another kiss on his forehead, first having already been administered, as was routine, when he got out of bed, yellow eyes opened a little and he groaned absently. Shifting under the gentle fingers in his hair and regarding him with one displeased, bleary eye, accepting a kiss but then worming back into the sheets with a long sigh and lip twitching into a smile as Mizuki scratched along his scalp soothingly til he drifted back off.

If he’d questioned his actions, he had no idea, but even if he had, this was a hell of a lot more than he could ever have dreamed they might have, just being able to do things like this, press innocent kisses to his eyelids, or temple or hair without having to risk a punch. It was, he thought to himself, as he tucked him in carefully and left the room after one last look, the little things that made this all so worthwhile, and cliché as that was, he figured this was at least the day for that sort of sappiness.

 

* * *

 

He thought about what to get Sly basically all day, because he’d assumed the day would go ignored by both of them and it would be fine, or maybe he’d just give him a few extra kisses and be allowed to cuddle him a little more, but now Sly had acted he had to as well.

Technically he’d stolen the idea from the internet, it had been some kid’s way of asking his girlfriend to the prom, but he knew it would work perfectly well for his purposes too, realising suddenly at the till and asking for the shopkeeper to ‘make it two, please.’

A little bit of crafty DIY in the tattoo studio, under Tio’s watchful, and somewhat curious, eye, and he was done with his idea, fingers a little sticky with residual glue and wondering just what a normal person would say if presented with this gift. He could imagine the relationship wouldn’t last much longer, unless they had an amazing sense of humour or took it as a joke and assumed their ‘real’ present was still to come. But Sly? It was exactly what he’d like, a gift he could actually accept, with a few emotions attached admittedly, but none too cheesy, no, Mizuki was certain as he bid Tio goodbye and slipped the box into his pocket, that he’d love it, even if he’d never admit it.

 

* * *

 

“Hey babe, you have a good day?”

“It was alright,” he remarked calmly, stretching out rather like a cat from his position lying face-down on the sofa, seemingly having been drifting between wakefulness and sleep as the TV droned quietly in the background. He accepted the kiss atop his head as Mizuki stepped past him to ditch his jacket, hanging it over the back of a dining chair before walking back to the shoe rack by the door and putting his boots on it neatly. “You?”

“Busy, lots of matching tattoos and names people will regret, pretty standard,” he shrugged, because he knew they weren’t mentioning the significance of today but Sly must have seen the card propped up on the DVD cabinet and known he’d seen it. “That reminds me, I got you something on my way back.”

The fact that his ‘way back’ involved less than two minutes of journeying, consisting of one set of stairs, a gate and two doors, he decided not to mention, just raising a mildly unimpressed eyebrow and looking almost nervous as to what it might be. It _was_ Valentine’s Day, and that meant he could have decided to be the overly romantic sap he was and buy him something cliché and dumb like chocolates or a teddy, if he’d done that he didn’t think he’d be able to hide his dislike. But he reached into his pocket and his nervousness all died as he recognised the blue packaging and shiny plastic of a cigarette packet, handing it over and removing one that was presumably for him, proving this as he opened it and put one in between his lips.

He frowned as he accepted them, because Mizuki always kept him stocked up on cigarettes and he’d bought him another pack only the day before, he still had about five left, having unconsciously cut down since moving in.

“I already have a- Oh,” his voice paused as he took in the neat handwriting on the side of the pack, health related warning/threat carefully covered up by immaculately stuck down white paper and then written over. He regarded the bartender for a second, because he knew he’d found his card, as much was obvious the minute he returned to their bedroom purely to kiss him goodbye again that morning, so he knew exactly what this was, reading aloud. “I know you like these more than flowers, happy valentine’s asshole, I love you.”

“Those are a sufficient present, I hope?” he enquired, alarmed as Sly stayed silent a moment longer, fingers gentle on the pack as they read the message again, nail tracing along the gold ribbon of seal on the plastic packaging.

“You’re such a sappy cunt,” his voice was everything Mizuki had expected, a little flustered and irritated, snappy but not meaning it even as he allowed the bartender to sit next to him, actually being the one to kiss him, albeit only on the corner of his mouth. Voice lowering to a reluctant mutter as occasion number three finally occurred, “but I love you too.”

“Good stuff,” he sighed, flopping into his side exhaustedly and hiding his face in his neck, because being surrounded by horribly love-struck couples all day was enough to make anybody want to crawl into bed and not wake up until this whole fuck-fest of a day was over. “I’m getting us pizza.”

 

* * *

 

 

Several hours later, pizza consumed until they both felt a little sick and two arguments about what to watch completed with the help of a compromise, Sly finally spoke up about something he’d been ignoring thus far, smoking the first cigarette out of his ‘special’ pack and gazing at the growing ash thoughtfully.

“How do you know I don’t like flowers? You’ve never bought me them.”

“Do you want me to?” He frowned, because of all the people he might think would enjoy flowers as a gift, Sly was not one of them, having expressed no real interest in nature and being far more of an urban person than anything else.

“Not really.”

“Then stop complaining.”

“But it’s what I’m good at.”

“You’re good at lots of things,” it was an attempt at reassurance, because since they’d been together Sly had displayed a surprising range of talents, he was good with electrical things, fixing Mizuki’s coil more than once and even his computer. He was an okay cook too, saying once that his Grandma had taught him as a child, but of course Sly took it the exact way he knew he would, and Mizuki prepared himself for whatever filth he was about to spew.

“Hm, maybe if you’re lucky I’ll demonstrate some of them later,” the grin he gave him was warmer than it had ever been, still teasing and obviously more than a little dirty, but endearing beyond reason, and if he objected to his seduction being broken off with a soft kiss he didn’t say anything, uttering his usual complaint, that Mizuki was a sap, and just like that things were the way they should be.


End file.
